


Must Like Cats

by earlgreytea68



Category: Shenanigans (Original Universe)
Genre: Cat/Human Hybrids, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-13 22:07:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11769351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/pseuds/earlgreytea68
Summary: He left a message that went something like, Hi. My name is Elliot. I am looking for a quiet and studious roommate and also I love cats.





	Must Like Cats

**Author's Note:**

> This one might be my favorite AU, tbh.

The ad caught Elliot’s eye because it was in the newspaper. Who put fucking roommate ads in the newspaper anymore? Elliot, sitting at his parents’ kitchen table bored over their insistence on still getting a paper copy of the _Globe_ every day, stared at the ad.

_Wanted: Quiet studious medical student seeks one roommate to share 2BD/1BA apt in Quincy. Must like cats._

“Must like cats,” Elliot murmured aloud. He wasn’t sure what he thought about cats. His mother was allergic to cats. He might also be allergic to cats. He’d never really been around them, given the moratorium on them.

Elliot tore the ad out of the newspaper before he could think twice about it.

***

At Deep Ellum, they were deep into their usual topic of conversation, which was Complaining About Living Situations.

“If you just agreed to be my roommate,” Caroline told Elliot for the twenty-eighth time, “we could probably afford something together.”

“We tried being roommates before,” Elliot pointed out, as he always did. “It didn’t work out.”

“We tried _dating_ ,” Caroline said. “That’s totally different.”

“Not so very different,” said Elliot. “Now we would just get on each other’s nerves without even being able to have sex to fix it.”

Caroline gave him a dubious look. “Sorry, do you think the sex fixed anything?”

“Wow,” said Elliot. “Let’s change _this_ subject.”

Jonah said, “I would invite you to move in with Jane and me but we have a very delicate ecosystem at work in our apartment.”

“It’s true,” Jane confirmed, tapping ash off her cigarette.

“Yeah,” said Elliot, looking between them, because he could think of no unlikelier roommates than Jane with her gorgeous, spare, clean, minimalist aesthetic, and Jonah, who was constantly cosplaying Oscar Wilde. “How’s that working?”

“So beautifully,” Jane said.

“We get along _so_ well,” said Jonah, and smirked at Elliot.

Because Elliot had wanted to live with Jane, and everyone knew that, and Jane had said no, that their two personalities in constant close quarters would be _ignitable_ , whatever the fuck that meant, because it didn’t mean anything sexual, because they weren’t like that.

Jonah said to Caroline, “You can live with Blake.”

“Blake’s a sociopath,” said Caroline. “ _Obviously_ the best roommate possibility would be Elliot.”

“Well, too late,” Elliot said. “I think I have a new roommate.” This was a lie, but it was a convenient one, and Elliot was nothing if not a huge fan of the convenient lie.

“Who?” asked everyone, with uniform suspicion.

“You know, I really resent how little you trust me,” Elliot decided.

And then everyone snorted.

Elliot frowned and said loftily, “If you must know, he’s a medical student.”

“A medical student?” echoed Jane.

“How’d you meet a medical student?” asked Caroline.

“And he’s quiet and studious,” said Elliot.

“And he wants to live with _you_?” said Jonah.

“I’m probably never introducing him to any of you,” said Elliot.

***

Elliot, having told his convenient lie, considered whether he should come up with a convenient lie to get out of his convenient lie, or if he should actually call the phone number associated with the roommate ad.

Elliot decided to call the number, because why the fuck not, there was no other shenanigan on offer at the moment and he was procrastinating work.

He left a message that went something like, _Hi. My name is Elliot. I am looking for a quiet and studious roommate and also I love cats_.

Later, he and Jane were in the middle of a French film marathon in her apartment and Elliot was studiously ignoring the fact that Jonah kept bellowing opera from his bedroom when his phone rang with a number he didn’t recognize. Elliot almost rejected it, before thinking, _Medical student_ , and answering. “Hello?”

“Hi,” said a voice on the other end. “Is this Elliot?”

“This is Elliot,” Elliot confirmed, clambering off the couch to try to get some privacy on the other side of the living room.

Which clearly didn’t work, Jane was blatantly eavesdropping.

“This is Nicholas. I placed an ad looking for a roommate and you responded?”

“Yes,” said Elliot, now scrambling to get entirely out of Jane and Jonah’s apartment. “Yes. I did. Hi.” He closed Jane’s door behind him as he stood in the hallway.

“I didn’t know if you maybe wanted to come see the place?” said Nicholas. “And, I don’t know, do you have any references or anything?”

“References?” said Elliot.

“I guess?” said Nicholas. “I’m not sure how you’re supposed to go about this.”

_Clearly_ , thought Elliot, _you placed an ad in the_ Globe. Aloud he said, “Sure, I can get references. Where’s the apartment and when can I stop by?”

***

“What do you mean, you need references?” said Caroline at Deep Ellum.

“I need people to vouch that I’m a good roommate.”

“And you’re asking _us_?” said Jonah, sounding deeply amused.

“Look,” said Elliot, scowling, “I am going to read each and every one of your letters, so you’d better say nice things about me.”

***

Caroline’s letter read, _Elliot is not a serial killer. He’s a decent roommate, as long as you don’t have sex with him_.

Elliot sighed and decided that was fair enough.

Jane’s letter was six paragraphs long and detailed all of Elliot’s accomplishments, which were mostly things like, _Once totally schooled a professor on the works of Roland Barthes. Granted, it was in an Irish step dancing class but it was still something to see._ She concluded with, _He is my best friend and I would live with him myself except that then we would take over the world. The world would be a better place, don’t get me wrong, I just don’t feel like having to be responsible for the whole thing._

Jonah’s letter said, _Once Elliot directed a very good production of_ Death of a Salesman _._

Blake’s letter said, _Elliot only makes pink drinks. It gets tiring. But I guess it’s okay_.

Elliot decided these letters were all good enough, but he decided to really bolster the case with a letter from his mother.

His mother said, “Why do you have to move out? You can just live over the garage forever.”

Elliot said, “Mom,” because he didn’t think that merited any other response, because it was _obvious_ he had to move out.

She sighed and wrote a letter that said, _Elliot is my favorite child. He’s also my only child, so that’s a good thing. He could live over our garage forever but I suppose if he has to move out, moving in with a doctor is a good move_.

Elliot sighed and thought, _Good enough_ , and took the letters with him to Quincy.

***

“Hi,” said Nicholas, when he opened the door, “I’m Nicholas.” And he smiled and held out his hand.

Elliot liked him immediately. Elliot liked the apartment immediately. It was cozy in a way that Elliot appreciated. When Elliot asked about the mismatched dining room chairs, Nicholas said he’d bought them at a library sale, and Elliot said, “ _Nice_ ,” very pleased with that. Nicholas showed him the second bedroom and said, “Sorry, it’s smaller, you’d pay less rent, of course.”

Elliot didn’t really care. The bedroom was not the most important thing about choosing an apartment. Elliot said seriously to Nicholas, “Tell me how you feel about corn dogs.”

“Oh,” said Nicholas, momentarily taken aback. “I mean, I love them. Ironically, of course.”

Elliot grinned and thought, _I can do this_. He said, “Great. I’ll take it. Here are my references.” He handed across his sheaf of letters.

Nicholas took the letters and said, “Your decision hinged on how I felt about corn dogs.”

“You can tell a lot about people from what they love _ironically_ ,” said Elliot.

“What about what they love _un_ ironically?” asked Nicholas.

“Well, that’s just the predictable stuff,” said Elliot. “That’s boring.”

Nicholas was flipping through the references letters. He said, “Okay, I just wanted to know if you were going to be able to pay the rent on time, but it’s very helpful to know that I shouldn’t have sex with you.” He held up Caroline’s letter.

Elliot made a face and said, “She’s ridiculous. It’s always a good idea to have sex with me.” Elliot realized what he’d said and said, “I mean, not that we have to have sex. I mean, not that we _don’t_ have to have sex.”

Nicholas was smiling. It was a nice smile. Elliot thought he could get used to that smile. Nicholas said, “Well, I’m glad that you were involved in theater in college and that you’re an only child. Useful information. What do you do for a job?”

“I’m a business analyst. It’s complicated,” Elliot said. “But it pays money. I swear.”

“Cool,” said Nicholas. “That’s really all I care about.”

Elliot looked around the apartment and said, “I thought you had a cat.”

“Oh,” said Nicholas vaguely. “Yeah. I kind of do.”

Far be it from Elliot to untangle the vagaries of cat ownership, Elliot thought, and said instead, “We should go couch-hunting.”  

***

Elliot moved in on a sunny Saturday. His parents helped him because they insisted. It was frankly embarrassing.

Nicholas also helped, of course. He was unfailingly polite and his parents were very impressed, Elliot could tell.

“A medical student,” his father said. “Where do you go?”

“BU,” Nicholas responded.

They were supposed to be helping him carry in boxes, but instead they were standing around chatting.

Elliot said, “A little help here?” and everyone ignored him.

His mother said to Nicholas, “Do you know what kind of doctor you want to be yet?”

“A pediatrician,” said Nicholas.

“Aww,” said Elliot’s mother, and then started sneezing. “Excuse me,” she said, and took herself out into the hallway to get over her sneezing fit.

Elliot said, “Do you think one of you could help me now?”

In truth, Elliot didn’t have a ton of stuff because he’d left most of it at his parents’. He’d mostly brought along his wardrobe, because his clothing was the most important bit. And his parents made him be practical and bring a bed. Whatever.

After he was finished moving in, Elliot’s dad insisted on taking all of them to dinner and listening to Nicholas talk about craft beer like he was some kind of craft beer connoisseur. Elliot’s mom kept sneezing and insisted she was just allergic to something and not coming down with a cold.

When finally Elliot and Nicholas were alone in their apartment together, Elliot said, “My parents like you better than they like me.”

Nicholas laughed lightly and went to sit by his record collection, hunting through it for something.

Elliot sat on one of the library chairs and said, “So are you a craft beer connoisseur?”

“I just like craft beer,” said Nicholas, choosing _Modern Life Is Rubbish_.

“I didn't know anybody liked craft beer,” said Elliot. “Especially not enough to be a connoisseur.”

Nicholas laughed and turned away from the record player to look at Elliot. “Tell me about your pink drinks.”

“Pink is aesthetically pleasing,” Elliot said.

“So it’s attractive?”

“It usually coordinates well with my wardrobe.”

“Do people take a lot of pictures of you? Why would you need to coordinate your drink and your outfit?”

“Well, I mean, you want to project a certain picture, right? You want people to think a certain way about you.”

Nicholas said thoughtfully, “Yes. That's true.”

Elliot decided he’d had enough of this topic of conversation. He said again, looking pointedly at Nicholas sitting on the floor, “We have to go couch-hunting.”

***

“So,” said Nicholas. “I kept saying to myself, Why does Elliot say we’re going couch-hunting instead of couch-shopping. And...this is why.”

Elliot, in the SUV he’d borrowed from his mother for the day, grinned and said, “You can’t just shop for a couch. It has to call to you. Nicholas, really, were you just going to go to a furniture store and just _buy_ a couch? A couch without any sense of _history_?”

“Most people prefer for their couches not to have history,” said Nicholas. “Like, I would prefer that our couch not have been contaminated with bodily fluids at any point.”

“No murder couches, got it.”

Nicholas was silent for a second. “I wasn’t actually talking about blood, but yeah, no murder couches, either. What does it say about you that when I mention bodily fluids, your mind immediately jumps to murder instead of other human activities?”

“I am definitely not a serial killer,” Elliot told him.

“So reassuring,” said Nicholas.

Elliot’s plan had been to hunt through flea markets until they found a couch. He hadn’t thought this would be difficult. They would find some vintage thing they could reupholster and that would be the end of the day. Except that Nicholas turned out to be weirdly particular about couches. He kept shaking his head and rejecting them with quick little frowns. Once he refused to even come near one.

“We’ll just never get the smell out,” he kept saying.

“What smell?” asked Elliot, bewildered.

“The _old couch_ smell,” answered Nicholas. “It’ll fill up the whole apartment.”

“I think you’re overreacting,” Elliot said. “None of them smell. We’ll just give them a thorough cleaning to take care of any of those bodily fluids you’re worried about and--”

“We need to find one that doesn’t _smell_ ,” said Nicholas firmly.

Elliot had no idea what Nicholas’s no-smell criteria was. He thought Nicholas was making the whole thing up.

“You’re very particular, you know,” Elliot told him.

Nicholas said, “Oh, am I? The other day you told me I wasn’t allowed to buy bananas anymore because they offend your aesthetics. And _I’m_ particular?”

“Well, I mean,” said Elliot. “You could at least _hide_ the bananas.”

Eventually Nicholas came upon a couch, a cozy bohemian-looking overstuffed monstrosity that Elliot looked askance at, but Nicholas approached cautiously and then smiled at.

It was the first smile Elliot had seen since shopping had begun.

“Really?” Elliot said doubtfully, doing a full circle around the couch. It was bright orange, but they could work with the fabric; the squashy shape of it was something else entirely. “This one?”

“No smell,” said Nicholas, and then curled up on the couch, settling in, practically purring with pleasure.

And Elliot hated this couch but Nicholas looked so blissful over it that Elliot couldn’t help it, he said, “Alright, fine, we’ll take it.”

***

Elliot liked living with Nicholas. He hadn’t been sure what to expect but it was... _nice_. Nicholas was quiet, and he was studious, but he was also quick to laugh, and loved trashy reality television as much as Elliot secretly did, and never turned down an opportunity to sprawl in a patch of sunlight on the floor and play Fuck Marry Kill pointlessly with Elliot.

Elliot had to admit that he even loved Nicholas’s terrible couch, which turned out to be so incredibly comfortable that Elliot spent most nights just drifting off to sleep there without bothering to shut off the television and go to bed. That meant Nicholas woke him in the morning, getting ready for class in the kitchen, and that was a much more pleasant alarm clock, because Nicholas would make him coffee _and_ a bagel.

Nicholas was the best roommate.

Elliot told everyone that at Deep Ellum. “I have the best roommate.”

“Your med student roommate?” Caroline said. “I still don’t think he exists.”

“He totally exists. And he’s the best. He picked out this fantastic couch for our apartment. It’s the best couch. No one else has such a good couch.”

“I would tell you not to get carried away over a _couch_ ,” said Jonah, “but ‘carried away’ is your default mode.”

“Also, Nicholas never says anything like that to me,” Elliot said. “Nicholas just smiles at me and laughs when I make jokes and thinks I am hilarious.”

“Wow,” drawled Jonah. “This Nicholas. He sounds like quite the individual.”

“When do we get to meet him?” Jane demanded, taking a drag on her cigarette. “I am your _best friend_ , I demand to meet your roommate.”

“I don’t want all of you to poison him against me.”

“We’d only tell the truth,” said Caroline.

“ _Exactly_ ,” said Jane.

***

Nicholas was studying at the library chair table in the dark, which was a bad habit he had.

Elliot flipped a light on and said, “You’re going to make yourself blind like that. Eye strain.”

“I didn’t realize it’d gotten dark out,” Nicholas said, not looking up from his book.

“Nicholas, it’s, like, midnight,” said Elliot, and collapsed onto the couch.

Nicholas made a noncommittal noise.

Elliot said suddenly, “Do you have friends?”

There was a moment of silence. “Do I have _friends_?” Nicholas repeated.

“It’s just… I never see you go out. So I was just wondering.”

“Wondering if I’d gone through life all alone, never making any human connection anywhere?” asked Nicholas.

“No,” said Elliot. “Maybe kind of.”

“I have friends at school. We don’t need to go out at night. We’re basically out with each other all day. And as for other friends, unlike you, I didn’t grow up _and_ go to college here. I don’t know how you keep up with all the friends you have.”

“It’s hard work,” Elliot admitted. “If I don’t pay attention, they veer off into crazy schemes like drunk Chekhov or cheese sculpting.”

Nicholas finally looked up from his textbook, a smile playing around his lips. “Cheese sculpting?”

“Don’t even laugh,” said Elliot, “it’s a thing.”

“And drunk Chekhov. Your friends sound great.” Nicholas, still smiling, went back to his textbook.

Elliot heard himself say, “You can come out with all of us. If you want.”

Nicholas said, “That would be fun.”

Which was how they ended up at Deep Ellum together. Elliot was nursing an Oaxacan Rose and watching Jonah read Nicholas’s palm. Nicholas looked appropriately dubious of Jonah. Elliot approved.

“Jonah’s trying to steal my roommate,” Elliot told Jane, “the same way he stole my best friend.”

“I wasn’t stolen, and he’d better not be trying to steal your roommate, seeing as how he’s already my roommate and three would be way too many people in our apartment.”

Caroline said to Elliot, “So you really do have a med student roommate. And he’s _hot_. Why didn’t you say anything? Wish me luck,” and she sauntered over to the Nicholas-and-Jonah side of the table, immediately angling herself in, smiling brilliantly.

Elliot said, “Everyone is trying to steal my roommate. Even my ex-girlfriend.”

“First, he’s just new blood and we haven’t had new blood in this group for a while,” said Jane. “Second, isn’t it a bit generous to call Caroline your ex-girlfriend? Didn’t you two just have some mediocre sex for a little while years ago? Would you call that ‘dating’?”

“It wasn’t mediocre. I’m going to stop coming to Deep Ellum,” Elliot announced. “Nothing good ever happens here.”

Jonah, apparently giving Caroline room to maneuver with Nicholas, dropped into the chair next to Elliot and said, “Your roommate’s hot.”

“Yes,” said Elliot. “I already heard all about this from Caroline.”

“No, no, I mean temperature-hot. His hands were hot. Like he has a fever.”

“He’s a med student,” said Jane. “He’d know if he had a fever.”

“Jonah’s just being dramatic,” said Elliot.

“I’m just wondering if he’s that hot all over,” said Jonah.

***

On Sundays Elliot usually woke up to Nicholas making Eggos in the kitchen. Nicholas was abysmal at making Eggos. For some reason, he only ever ended up burning them to a crisp or turning them out half-frozen. Elliot wasn’t sure why Nicholas was so perplexed by this but he loved it so much that he refused to help him, because Nicholas frowning at the toaster like it was betraying him might have been Elliot’s favorite thing in the universe.

Elliot yawned and rolled himself off the couch and went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of the coffee Nicholas had made and looked fondly at Nicholas’s displeased face.

“How are the Eggos going?” Elliot asked, amused.

“I think I’m getting somewhere,” Nicholas said optimistically, studying the toaster critically.

Elliot hid his grin in his coffee cup and watched Nicholas and thought that he looked...warm, and inviting. Like home. Like Elliot didn’t get suddenly why they didn’t start Sunday mornings by having Elliot kiss Nicholas up against the kitchen counter. He didn’t get suddenly why their Eggos weren’t burnt for much better reasons than Nicholas’s inability to time the toaster correctly.

Nicholas’s Eggos emerged from the toaster very black, and Nicholas frowned at their betrayal and looked up at Elliot, saying, “Don’t worry, I’m going to get it right next--What?” He lifted his eyebrows and stood still, Eggos half-on his plate, studying whatever expression Elliot’s face was wearing.

Elliot shook his head, shook himself out of it, and said, “Did you have fun last night?”

“Yeah,” said Nicholas after a second. “Your friends are fun. Jonah told me I have a future on the stage. I’m not sure how accurate that is.”

“Jonah doesn’t know how to read palms,” Elliot said. “He just thinks that’s flirty and cute.”

Nicholas grinned and said, “Well, he’s not wrong,” as he sat at the table with his Eggos.

Elliot said, “Seriously? You and Jonah? He’s so needlessly dramatic.”

Nicholas looked at him quizzically and said, “Not me and Jonah. We did a little bit of harmless flirting at a bar last night. You’re making up stories in your own head that have nothing to do with reality, as usual. Come and have some Eggos.”

Elliot acknowledged to himself that he was in a weird mood and taking it out on Nicholas and that wasn’t fair. So Elliot sat at the table and dutifully chomped his way through Nicholas’s subpar Eggos.

Nicholas said, after a second, “I like my drama less self-aware.”

Elliot turned that over in his head for a little while, then said, “What does that mean?”

“Yeah, exactly,” said Nicholas, with one of his little smiles.

That Elliot realized he never saw Nicholas use with anyone else: not with his study group that he sometimes had over, not with anyone at Deep Ellum, not with any of the various people Elliot had seen Nicholas interact with. Just him. A fond, personal Elliot-smile.

It was a good day, Elliot decided.

***

“You know that Caroline wants to date your hot roommate, right?” said Jane, on the rooftop patio at Daedalus, during one of the last warm days before winter claimed the city once and for all.

Elliot said, “Yeah, she has made that abundantly clear fawning over everything he ever says.”

“What would be the problem if Caroline dates Nicholas? You like both of them. Wouldn’t it be great if two of your best friends found love?”

“They’re not in love,” Elliot complained. “Don’t be so dramatic. Jonah’s rubbing off on you.”

“Okay,” Jane allowed. “So is it better or worse if they just fuck a few times and get it out of their system?”

Elliot had a visceral reaction to the entire idea that manifested in something like roiling nausea. He pushed his drink away and said, “No one’s fucking anyone else.”

“No,” Jane smirked. “Clearly.”

***

Elliot had moved in with Nicholas in August, just as school had been beginning. The days had now tripped firmly into deep autumn, and while Elliot was one of those people who barely noticed weather because it was largely irrelevant to the aesthetics of his life except that maybe he might consent to wear a cashmere sweater every once in a while, Nicholas seemed miserable. He usually came home from school and burrowed into blankets and seemed generally lethargic.

“It’s seasonal affective disorder,” he said, when Elliot finally asked if he was maybe coming down with something. “I’m just sensitive to the lack of light and the cold creeping in.”

Elliot didn’t think it was cold in the apartment but he kept the heat up near stifling for Nicholas’s benefit and ordered them an SAD light that he set up in their living room.

“Ta-da!” he said, when Nicholas came in from class, bundled up in a thousand layers, looking half-frozen. “It’s an SAD light,” he explained. “Supposed to mimic the sun. It might help?”

Nicholas stared at the light, and then turned a Elliot-smile onto Elliot and said, “Elliot,” in that soft, fond way he had that Elliot really loved. Then he sat on the floor, directly in the patch of light being cast by the SAD light, and looked so pleased that Elliot could have sworn he was purring.

Elliot didn’t know why Nicholas hadn’t bought himself an SAD light long ago, given how happy it clearly made him.

Elliot said that that night, watching Nicholas study on the same patch of floor, more awake and energetic than Elliot had seen him in a while.

Nicholas looked thoughtful. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think it would help. I guess I thought...this was just me, and there was nothing I could do about it, and I’d just suffer through.”

“That’s…” Elliot caught himself before saying, _That’s a terrible way to live_.

Nicholas gave him a look that said he knew what Elliot had been about to say anyway. He said, “No. I know. You would never do that. You’ve never met an obstacle that you didn’t consider a thrilling shenanigan to overcome. I love that about you. You’re good for me.”

Elliot sat on their squashy couch and looked at Nicholas on the floor and felt momentarily unable to breathe. _I love that about you_ , said Nicholas’s voice in his head. Elliot thought he would be okay if Nicholas never said anything else to him for the rest of their lives.

Nicholas looked at Elliot, his gaze striking and intent, and Elliot said, strangled, “It’s just an SAD light.”

Nicholas, after a moment, smiled at him, and then went back to studying.

***

“Tell me of your latest shenanigan,” Nicholas said wearily, pushing his textbooks away and stretching out luxuriously in the patch of SAD light on the floor. Nicholas had a way of stretching out that was the most distracting thing Elliot had ever seen. He stretched enthusiastically, with his whole body, like it was the most wantonly enjoyable thing in the universe. Elliot considered it vaguely pornographic but that was probably just because Elliot kind of wanted to rub himself all over Nicholas when he stretched like that. Elliot wanted to rub himself all over Nicholas at all times of day, but he was learning to live with it; it was just that it was _hardest_ to live with--no pun intended--when Nicholas was stretching like that, when Nicholas left himself sprawled in the perfect position for Elliot to just crawl on top of him and pin him down and make him make those little bitten-down purring noises that Nicholas was prone to that drove Elliot _crazy_.

Elliot said, mouth dry, trying not to stare too much at the patch of skin revealed by Nicholas’s sweater rucking up as he stretched, “It’s been dull. It’s the weather. Nobody wants to do shenanigans in this type of weather. Jane says our shenanigan should be moving to California.”

“Mmm,” said Nicholas, eyes closed now as he basked in the SAD light. “California might be nice. Let me know if you’re moving to California, I could transfer.”

Nicholas looked like he was going to doze off into a catnap, and Elliot tried not to watch him too raptly.

Nicholas said suddenly, “Keep talking. Keep distracting me.”

Elliot wanted to distract him in entirely different ways. He cleared his throat and tried not to sound painfully aroused and said, “I’ve been thinking of making a podcast.”

Nicholas Elliot-smiled. “Of course you have. What would it be about? No, wait, let me guess: you judging everybody.”

“Well,” said Elliot. “Me giving everybody advice. Like, aesthetic advice. I have opinions on things.”

“You should just complain about _Pretty Little Liars_ for an hour. People would listen to that.”

“I hate _Pretty Little Liars_.”

“Uh-huh. You could also just have a podcast where you offer up your bizarre Fuck Marry Kill scenarios.”

“I don’t have bizarre Fuck Marry Kill scenarios.”

“You are the only person in the universe fixated on always having Cardinal Richelieu one of your choices.”

“You are the only person in the universe who always chooses to _fuck_ Cardinal Richelieu. That is clearly the wrong choice.”

“I have a thing for schemers,” said Nicholas lazily.

Elliot said suddenly, and he didn’t know why it occurred to him just then, “Where’s your cat?”

Nicholas stilled and then opened his eyes and looked at Elliot. “What?”

“You said you kind of had a cat. But I’ve never seen this cat.”

Nicholas, after a moment, said, “He comes and goes.” Nicholas closed his eyes again. “Let’s go back to Fuck Marry Kill.”

***

Elliot could draw only one conclusion about the missing cat: Nicholas had been taking care of a stray at some point, and the stray had disappeared. Probably the stray had been killed, poor thing, and Nicholas was in denial about it. Poor Nicholas. The cat had been important enough for him to mention in his classified ad, and now there was no cat.

Elliot went to a shelter and picked out a cat. An adult cat, a scrappy calico who looked dubious of Elliot’s motives but nevertheless cautiously head-butted him anyway and purred when Elliot scratched behind his ears. The purring clinched it for Elliot. Elliot kind of had a thing for purring sounds, it turned out.

Elliot took the cat home and the cat immediately appeared uneasy and stalked around the apartment and finally settled on Elliot’s bed and refused to come out.

Elliot was still frowning at him when Nicholas came home from school, and then Nicholas, frozen just inside the door, said suddenly, “Did you get a cat?”

Elliot blinked at him from his bedroom doorway. “What? How did you know?”

“Intuition,” Nicholas said absently, walking to Elliot’s bedroom doorway and looking at the cat on the bed.

The cat looked warily back at Nicholas.

Elliot looked between them and said uncertainly, “I don’t know. I thought you liked cats.”

Nicholas said, without taking his eyes off the cat, “I do like cats.”

“So I thought, why don’t we have a cat then?”

Nicholas walked into Elliot’s bedroom and crouched beside Elliot’s bed and looked steadily at the cat. The cat cautiously came up to him and sniffed.

“Okay,” Nicholas said. “It’s okay. I think this will work.” And then Nicholas straightened suddenly and walked over to Elliot.

“Right,” Elliot said. “I thought it would work. I’m home all day, I can take care of--”

Nicholas startled him by hugging him close, which he had never done before. He actually stretched against him, and rubbed his head against Elliot’s shoulder and neck, and Elliot stood stock still and had no idea what to do with any of this.

Then Nicholas stepped back as suddenly as he’d stepped close, and glanced back at the cat on the bed, who was watching and swishing its tail, and then Nicholas said, “Yes. Good,” and turned back to Elliot and said, “Thank you for the cat.”

“O-kay,” said Elliot, as Nicholas stepped out of his bedroom. Elliot stared at the cat on his bed and then said vaguely, “Probably I’m, like, going to take a shower now…”

***

“I don’t know,” Elliot complained at Deep Ellum. “It’s weird and confusing. I got him a cat because I thought he liked cats but it’s been weird since then.”

“Weird how?” asked Caroline.

Elliot didn’t know how to explain it, honestly. He felt like he was in the middle of a nature documentary and he was the territory being staked out. Which made no sense, because the cat was in no way a threat to his relationship with Nicholas, and vice versa. They were two completely different relationships. But if Nicholas came home from school to Elliot cuddling the cat on the couch, he was clipped and annoyed until he curled up next to Elliot on the couch and stared the cat down until the car huffed and abandoned Elliot. Elliot didn’t know what to make of it. He kind of wanted to shake Nicholas.

Elliot wanted to say, _I feel like he’s jealous of the cat somehow?_ But that sounded so ridiculous to say out loud. What was there to be jealous of? If Nicholas wanted to be cuddled by Elliot, Nicholas just had to _ask_. Surely that was _painfully obvious_ at this point.

“A cat is a very personal gift,” said Jane. “I mean, you got him a pet. You got yourselves a _mutual pet_. That implies a commitment that maybe you haven’t discussed with him.”

That made some sense, Elliot allowed.

“If Jonah came home with a cat,” Jane continued, “I’d say to him, ‘I hope you know that’s your cat and yours alone, because we do not have that kind of relationship.’”

Jonah said, “And I probably would have discussed getting a cat with Jane beforehand. Discussing things with people isn’t really your strong suit.”

Elliot frowned and didn’t say anything, because that was maybe true.

Caroline said, “Anyway, didn’t you say it was finals time? And that’s why he didn’t come out tonight? Nicholas is probably just out-of-sorts and stressed. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

She said it so kindly, and so gently, that Elliot thought maybe Caroline was his new favorite.

***

Elliot came home from Deep Ellum to find the SAD light blazing and Nicholas curled up on the couch, face pressed into the cushions, breathing deeply. When Elliot walked in, he rolled over and looked at him, blinking a little dazedly.

“You okay?” Elliot asked, unsure.

Nicholas said, “Yes. No. I’m a little--” Nicholas took a sudden deep breath. “If I do something, just because it’s been kind of a long week, and I’m sleep deprived, and I just _need_ to--can I just do something, and not have you ask questions afterward? Just, like, let me do it and we’ll both move on?”

Elliot stood a few steps into their living room and wondered what the hell was about to happen. He said, “Yeah, of course, if you need to,” and hoped Nicholas wasn’t about to, like, pull out a gun and play Russian roulette or something.

But Nicholas stood up and walked swiftly over to Elliot and caught him up closely and did that thing again, stretching into him, rubbing his head against him, butting it softly against Elliot’s shoulder, underneath Elliot’s jaw, against Elliot’s cheek. Elliot stood frozen, the same way he had the first time, unsure how he was supposed to react and what he was supposed to do. It was weirdly like being kissed--it was weirdly like being _fucked_ \--it made Elliot breathless and painfully hard and his heart pounded and Nicholas made little bitten-down purring sounds, writhing against him, and Elliot closed his eyes and half-wished they’d played Russian roulette instead, because he felt like a gun had definitely gone off, deafening and startling and shaky.

Nicholas finally settled, leaning heavily against him, breathing him in, and Elliot stood, still, still, trying not to do anything, trying not to ask questions, trying to just _move on_ the way Nicholas had asked him to and he had agreed, but he didn’t want to move on, he wanted to shove Nicholas against the wall and kiss those purring noises out of his mouth and make him arch against him.

Nicholas said, sounding exhausted, not moving away, “I’m so sorry. It was a long day. I just...really felt like I needed you, and then you weren’t home, and then you--I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Elliot said softly, instinctively, because Nicholas sounded wrecked, “it’s okay. I’m right here.”

“Yes. Thank you. Thank you.” Nicholas pulled back and avoided Elliot’s eyes and said, “Sorry. But thank you.” And then he went and hid in his bedroom, which was very unlike him.

Elliot took deep shuddering breaths and, because Nicholas wasn’t there to get cold, threw open the window and stuck his head out into the frigid December air.

***

Nicholas pulled two all-nighters in a row, which Elliot knew only because he also pulled two all-nighters, although he didn’t have exams to use as an excuse.

Elliot sat on the couch watching all of the trashy reality television he could and ignored work and ignored their poor cat (Ian Purrtis, Elliot had named the cat, thinking that the concession to Nicholas’s musical tastes might make him fonder of him) and tried to ignore the very idea of Nicholas, except that when Nicholas dragged himself home after his last exam--Elliot knew the date, because Elliot had spied on Nicholas’s calendar--Elliot said from the couch, “You look dead on your feet. Come and sit.”

Nicholas said, “I should sleep,” but he also came and curled up next to Elliot like he couldn’t help it.

And he did sleep, head pillowed on Elliot’s shoulder, and Elliot, listening to his soft snores against him, not watching television at all, reached his hand over to stroke it through Nicholas’s hair. Nicholas, in sleep, leaned into the petting, and Nicholas, unmistakably, starting purring. There was nothing bitten down about it, nothing halfway, and no other way to describe it. The purrs were deep and pleased and vibrated against Elliot and Elliot looked at Ian Purrtis across from him, watching them, and murmured, “Okay. Okay, I think I get this now.”

***

Elliot fell asleep with Nicholas curled against him. When he woke, though, Nicholas was gone, but there was a text on his phone. _Post-exam drinks with the study group_. Which had also been on Nicholas’s calendar, so it wasn’t like Nicholas was deliberately trying to avoid him. Although, who knew? Maybe he was.

Elliot Googled _people who are also cats_ , which got him the most disturbing results in the universe, and he closed out of the search. He would have asked Jane about this, but he thought Jane would have been alarmed by his headspace. And at the same time...Elliot was almost positive he was right about this. Whatever Nicholas was, with his acute sense of smell and his ability to study in the dark and his penchant for stretching out in pools of sunlight and his elevated body temperature and his _purring_ , it definitely was not entirely human.

When Nicholas got home, he seemed more relaxed than Elliot had seen him in ages, which maybe was a function of the alcohol, or maybe was because he’d slept all night purring in Elliot’s ear. Which maybe Nicholas had been wanting to do for a long time and had been scared to say because maybe when you were a half-cat person, it was difficult to initiate that conversation with someone.

“Hi,” Nicholas said, and Elliot-smiled at him.

“Hi,” Elliot said. “Congratulations on being done.”

“Until it all starts again next semester,” said Nicholas. He was still smiling, and it all seemed so easy and _good_.

Elliot said, “Come here.”

Nicholas went still by the door, the relaxation dripping off of him, visibly replaced with a thrumming tension. Suddenly Elliot couldn’t understand why he hadn’t seen this so much earlier. It was so obvious that Nicholas should have had a tail switching nervously behind him.

“Come here,” Elliot said again, softly, coaxing.

Nicholas made a small, helpless sound, almost like a tiny meow, and Elliot smiled so enormously at him that he felt ridiculous but he couldn’t _help_ it.

Nicholas came to him, crawling onto the couch, stopping short of touching him but looking like he was quivering with desire for it, saying, his voice hoarse, “ _Elliot_.”

Elliot stroked a hand through Nicholas’s hair and then down his back, and Nicholas arched and bit back his purr. Elliot petted him again, and again, and Nicholas squeezed his eyes shut and tipped inexorably toward him.

“I’m right about this, aren’t I?” murmured Elliot, catching Nicholas as he curled into him, and then pulled him in, rubbed his cheek against his.

Nicholas sounded like he was choking on trying to keep his purrs in. He had now clambered all the way onto Elliot, stretched out full against him, rubbing and arching and gasping, “Fuck--Elliot--I can’t--”

“It’s good,” Elliot told him, catching him to him, nuzzling behind his ear, arching back against him. “Purr for me.”

Nicholas stopped moving for a long moment. Then he started purring, long and low and deep, vibrating against Elliot’s chest.

Elliot said, “ _Fuck_ ,” fervently, and meant every inch of it, and pulled Nicholas up so he could kiss him deeply, kiss around Nicholas’s waves of purring, and Nicholas kissed and kissed back, saying, “Elliot, Elliot, Elliot,” around his purrs and Elliot’s mouth.

Elliot said, “Christ, I have wanted you--so much--”

“Me, too,” Nicholas agreed, shoving at Elliot’s clothing. “Me, too. Really from the moment I saw you. It’s why I let you stay--even with your ridiculous--references--”

“My references were so good,” Elliot said, petting at Nicholas just to enjoy the way he shuddered and purred harder.

“Your references--” Nicholas panted “--were fucking--oh, my God, Elliot--fuck--”

Elliot realized he was grinning, that he was incandescently happy, that he wanted to do this for the rest of his life. He was getting his way successfully into Nicholas’s pants before Nicholas said suddenly, abruptly, “There’s a tail,” just as it sprang free.

Elliot looked at it in surprise, a lovely coiling ginger thing that seemed to wave hello at him, and said, “Fuck, why is that the hottest thing I’ve ever seen?”

He realized that Nicholas had tensed but now relaxed again. “Really? That’s not the usual reaction.”

Elliot ran a hand down Nicholas’s tail--Nicholas really was hot _everywhere_ \--and Nicholas rutted against him and cursed thickly.

Elliot said, “Jesus Christ, how could anyone not think this is the hottest thing ever?” and did it again. “Can you come just from this alone?” Nicholas seemed too incoherent to answer. Elliot said, “Well. I think we should find out. Let’s get bodily fluids all over our couch.”

It really didn’t take very long at all.

***

After, Nicholas stretched out on Elliot, purring and purring, just the tip of his tail flicking lazily against Elliot’s skin, and every once in a while rubbing his head anew against Elliot’s shoulder.

Nicholas said sleepily, “Sorry about the purring. Usually I can hold it back, but sometimes I can’t.”

“The purring is my favorite thing,” Elliot said. “Everything about you is my favorite thing.”

Nicholas rubbed his cheek against Elliot’s shoulder again and said, “Me, too. Me, too.”  

 


End file.
